In the ”90s, the Backstreet Boys were his enemy. They were bubble-gum pop — a manufactured quintet made up of guys who wore matching sports jerseys and sang about the shape of their hearts.

They were everything Stephen Kijak was against. He wore black and liked musicians who dressed that way too, like the Cure. So when the production company Pulse Films asked him to direct a documentary about the Backstreet Boys, he balked.

“That”s what you brought me? You work with Nick Cave, Blur, LCD Soundsystem, and you bring me the Backstreet Boys? I don”t think so,” recalls Kijak, 45.

But then he met with the band, and they said they were more interested in emulating Metallica”s gritty documentary (“Metallica: Some Kind of Monster,” 2004) than Justin Bieber”s fluffy one (“Justin Bieber”s Believe,” 2013.) The group members were at a pivotal moment — their 20th anniversary. Kevin Richardson had just returned to the band after a six-year hiatus. And they were just about to start recording a new album in London.

“They didn”t have anything to lose,” Kijak says. “They didn”t have a record deal and sort of weren”t sure if anybody cared about them anymore. They felt like underdogs.”

That sounds kind of ridiculous for a group that has sold 130 million albums worldwide, toured in more than 100 countries and received seven Grammy nominations.

But as viewers learn in “Backstreet Boys: Show ”Em What You”re Made Of,” which premiered in limited release and on video-on-demand Jan. 30, even that list of accomplishments doesn”t earn you much respect when you”re a grown man still in a boy band.

Yes, the “boys” — Richardson, 43; Howie Dorough, 41; Brian Littrell, 39; AJ McLean, 37; and Nick Carter, 35 — are adults. They”re all married and have kids, except for Carter, whose nuptials took place only a few months ago.

But while hanging out by the rooftop pool at a trendy Hollywood hotel for interviews, the band members hardly look like soccer dads. There”s a blingy dog tag hanging from Carter”s neck, and McLean keeps his sunglasses on, despite the fact that it”s 4 p.m. on an overcast day.

“I want Champagne. Anyone want Champagne?” Littrell asks.

“You gettin” some sparkly?” Dorough responds.

McLean, who has battled alcohol and drug addiction for more than a decade, abstains. His struggles with sobriety are discussed in the film, as are Littrell”s serious vocal issues and the band”s relationship with Lou Pearlman, who put together the group in 1993 but later went to jail.

“When we decided we were going to make a documentary film, we said, ”OK, well, we don”t want it to be a ”VH1 Behind the Music,” because we”ve already done that,” ” says Richardson, who still sports the overly manicured goatee he had two decades ago.

Carter, who has starred in two reality TV shows, was the one who first suggested that the group make a documentary. When he saw “Beats, Rhymes & Life,” the 2011 film about A Tribe Called Quest, he had a “nostalgic feeling” and wanted to revisit the hip-hop group”s music. “I thought doing something similar would be a cool way to reintroduce ourselves to fans who may not have kept up with us — a cool way to rekindle that love,” he says.

The movie also served as a way to bring the “boys” closer together. They decided to visit one another”s hometowns for the first time and film the experience, which proved surprisingly emotional for some members. Richardson broke down outside the home in Kentucky where he had grown up while recounting his father”s final days battling cancer. In Florida, Carter dissolved into tears after his elementary school drama teacher presented him with a video of him performing in a play.

The performers also were forced to face their feelings about Pearlman, who in 2008 pleaded guilty to charges including conspiracy and money laundering, and was sentenced to 25 years in federal prison. Richardson says in the film that Pearlman was not only recouping his investment on the band, but also was taking his cut as a manager and getting paid as the sixth member of the group. “Everything we pulled in in the first couple of years — he was making 70 percent of it,” Richardson says. “We barely saw any of that.”

Adds Littrell, with anger in his voice: “We did five sold-out tours in Europe, and I had $88,000 in my bank account.”

The group had planned to visit Pearlman in prison — “to just ask him ”Why?” ” Dorough says — but the warden wouldn”t approve the request because of security issues.

Not that there wasn”t plenty of other drama for Kijak to dive into. As it turned out, the cameras provided an outlet for the band to discuss Littrell”s muscle tension dysphonia, which has severely altered the quality and consistency of his voice. In one heated scene, Littrell and Carter get into a curse-heavy fight during which Carter shouts: “Are we going to talk about the fact that you don”t necessarily sound as good as you used to?”

Kijak remembers when he first reviewed that footage. “I was like, ”This is good. We needed some drama!” You don”t see freaking One Direction screaming and shouting at each other like that.”

With the band set to record a new album this summer, Littrell says his voice is still causing him trouble. Though he was able to participate in the band”s 145-date “In a World Like This” tour last year, he says he was unable even to speak just five months ago. But though he worries about being able to sing, he”s more concerned with being taken seriously when he does.

“With the term ”boy band” — people toss it to the side and think it was a generational movement that won”t happen again,” he says. “And yet we”re still kicking. We”ve been nominated for a ton of Grammys but have never won. It would be nice, from an industry standpoint, for someone to go, ”Hey, well done.” “